A Sitting Deal
by Ryunn Kazan
Summary: For RCIJ 2019. Based on the prompt from of-princes-and-savages: "Hey, who's kid is this?" With the threat of a rent increase being held over her head, Lacey E. French makes a deal with Mr. Gold to babysit his three-year-old son. Soon however the town troublemaker finds herself getting close to her landlord and son…which just can't be good!
1. Chapter 1

"Hey! Who's kid is this!"

The exclamation came from the one and only Lacey Eloise French (though a total of two people in the entire world knew her forbidden middle name), who now had the Rabbit Hole's full-blown attention.

It had been a regular Friday night for the town troublemaker: a quick breakfast of dry toast and shot of whiskey (for the hangover she received for Thursday night's shenanigans), a quiet afternoon of sneaking chapters in Storybrooke's undersaturated selection of books (because Lacey E. French was not about to let anyone know her secret passion of reading), and a routine evening of flirting for free drinks and pool hustling so she could make rent and buy more cheap bread and whiskey for the next major hangover.

Yet the weight of a pair of pudgy arms wrapped tightly around her stocking-clad thigh changed Lacey's night—and life, as she would soon find out—forever.

Her eye twitched when she looked down at the curly haired something or other wrapped around her leg. Who the everlasting hell would let a kid into a bar?

She looked around for a frantic parent—though she knew good and well she wouldn't find one. Anyone who would bring their kid into a place like the Rabbit Hole was obviously a subpar caregiver at best. Probably someone who had kids before they were ready and used precious moments to wallow in their regret rather than use that time to hone some decent parental skills.

"Hey…kid?"

A pair of large glassy brown eyes looked up at her, and Lacey felt a strange jolt in her gut.

Now, Lacey didn't hate children, but she sure as hell didn't like them. Kids were loud and sticky and hyper, and they required a certain softness that Lacey just didn't possess.

Still, there was one clinging to her like a drunk would a toilet, and she couldn't deny that she was just a bit concerned. What if he was fleeing a kidnapper, or what if his parent was drunk off their ass and bleeding to death somewhere?

"Are you…" she paused. What did you say to crying children? Wasn't there a stranger danger law she was supposed to help uphold?

"Bae!"

Lacey tensed, and this time not from the tiny nails sinking into her flesh.

She knew that voice all too well, even if it was being released in one syllable. She heard it sometimes in the echo of her apartment building when her neighbors were behind on rent.

In a moment, a pair of shiny black shoes were in front of her. A pan up from said shoes revealed a well-tailored suit, and finally the intense glare from one Mr. Gold—Lacey's landlord and the town nightmare.

And he was staring at Lacey like she had just keyed his car.

Beside him was Chuck, the manager of the Rabbit Hole, scared for his life.

"What are you doing to my son, Miss French?" he inquired, his voice low and as dangerous as venom.

It was on the tip of Lacey's dried tongue to tell him to back the hell off, she hadn't done shit. But when she looked down at the boy once more, she noticed that she had subconsciously threated her fingers in the boys impossibly small curls—a sort of subconscious coping mechanism to comfort the distressed creature in front of her.

Then the other thought: when the _hell_ had Gold gotten a kid?

Lacey French and First Name Unknown Gold were hardly close, but they had a few run-ins through the years. Sideways glances on the streets in the middle of the night, brushes of the skins as they picked up food at Granny's. Little things that didn't really mean anything or added anything to their non-existent relationship.

But when Lacey stopped to think about it, she wondered if it was something.

At the moment she hoped that little something was enough to stop Gold from calling the cops on her for assumed kidnapping.

"I…bugger off kid!" she hissed, carefully prying the boy's hands from her hip.

The boy obeyed and turned his face into Gold's pants leg, the man instantly cupping the boy's curls as Lacey had.

"Oh, Mr. Gold!"

Lacey looked up to see Crystal the day bartender bounding towards him.

"I'm so sorry, I looked away for a minute!"

"A minute is all it takes," Gold growled. "for my son to get kidnapped, or to run out and get hit by a car!"

Chuck was quiet, but his eyes were fearful.

"I know, I'm sorry—"

"You can forget that extension on the rent." Gold said, turning to Chuck. "We're done."

Lacey flinched at the tension in the bar. She was hardly friends with Chuck are Crystal, but they never gave her grief about her tab or the fights she would start over unpaid pool bets.

It was that semi-form of respect that made her stupidly speak up.

"And you don't think it's your own fault for bringing a toddler into a freaking bar?" she snarked.

Gold turned to her, a warning in his eyes. "What was that, Miss French?"

Lacey knew the warning, knew she would suffer greatly if she told him just what she thought. But damn it Lacey E. French spoke her mind and held nothing back.

"I'm just saying, don't push your kid in front of a car unless you're sure it's not going to hit him." Her tone was steady, but she did lower her gaze down to her pool cue. "And don't bring your kid to a bar unless it soberbility day or something."

She heard one of her opponents hiss. She was about to get it.

But Gold only stared at her, his expression dark and exhausted. Even under the muggy light of the pool hall she could see the bags weighing down his eyes.

Maybe it was his sheer exhaustion that kept him from bringing down his full wrath—or perhaps it was the child clinging to his leg.

Either way his repercussion came in the form of a very quiet but very damaging growl.

"I suggest you mind your own business, Miss French, before you find yourself in trouble that even you can't get out of. And consider your rent raised as well,"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she shouted.

Gold didn't answer, but instead picked up his small son, unstably limping out of the much quieter bar with the boy's face nestled deep in his shoulder.

Lacey managed to keep a stone face until he exited the premises, but as soon as the door closed behind him, she took her pool cue and splintered it over the nearest bar stool.

"Son of a bitch!" Lacey snarled, kicking away the splintered pieces away with her heeled boot.

"You're going to have to pay for that, Lace," sputtered Chuck.

Lacey turned an exasperated look at the bar manager. "I'll break another one over your fucking face!" she hissed, storming out and throwing a middle finger over her back while her pool buddies howled with laughter.

Outside the cool night air did little to settle her foul mood. Why did she ever try to help anyone when she knew she'd get stabbed in the back seconds later?

"Fuck!" she yelled, rubbing her barely insolated jacket to keep her arms warm. She thought about what she could do as she hustled down the street. She could swallow her pride and ask her dad for a loan, but she be damn if she admitted she needed anything from him. Granny had always made off-handed remarks about "needing some damn help" around her dinner, but Lacey would rather be homeless than serve the assholes she played pool with in a short skirt for little to no tips.

She rubbed her arms, allowing her anger to swallow down her fear and grief. There was a time when she didn't have to worry about making it day to day. She once had ambitions—had dreams, even. She wanted to travel, to get a degree, to have a library. She wanted to have something bigger than a life of pool hustling and drinking…

Like Belle did.

Lacey's bitterness mulled over as she thought about her twin sister. One would think they weren't sisters at all by the way they acted. Lacey was always the troublemaker, the rebel without a cause who lived in each moment. Belle was structured, always planning a head even when both their futures seemed uncertain.

They'd never been friends or overly close the way some sisters were, but there was never any bad blood between them.

It wasn't until the day Belle whisked herself away to Boston for college that Lacey was hit with a crushing realization: her only sister was gone, and for her own benefit, would probably never return.

Now Lacey craved those scattered phone calls she made every other month. Her life was good. She'd even started dating her grumpy but whoafully intelligent ex-physics professor.

Her life was good, and Lacey was happy for her, really. But she missed her. Because with Belle around, somehow Lacey thought everything would be alright.

Lacey sighed. Where was that ray of hope now.

Just ahead she could see the end of Mr. Gold's Cadillac come to a stop at a red light. Her blood boiled at the thought of his impassive smirk and judgmental eyes. What gave him the right to go around screwing up her life?

And screw up someone else's life at that.

When _did_ Gold get a kid?

A kid who apparently had to go with his pop on dangerous business ventures.

It was odd, and while Lacey could give a hoot less, she wondered why Gold hadn't hired a sitter or sent him to Storybrooke's sole daycare.

Then again, most people were terrified of Mr. Gold. Who's to say the same courtesy didn't extend to his son?

Lacey puzzled on the matter as she reached her apartment and kicked off her heels, fishing a half bottle of wine from the back of the fridge.

The alcohol buzzed through her quickly, tainting her thoughts and filling her brain with mixed messages.

She wouldn't have her rent by the morning, that much was apparent. And somehow she hoped Gold would be too busy with his son that he wouldn't be worried about her not having it in on time.

Lacey blinked, the thought refusing to flow away along with the alcohol in her system.

A father with a business to run and a kid to take care of.

Could this be the end of the terrifying Mr. Gold?

Well, Lacey though with a mischievous sip of her wine, there was only one way to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Gold had been a full-time dad for only a week, but he already felt like he was failing. He had a cranky three-year-old who barely ate anything and was in a constant state of pouting.

The pawnbroker rubbed his eyes, running his hand down his two-day old stubble that he just didn't have the strength to get rid of.

He was tired. Bone-tired. But he had an entire town to run and couldn't afford to let said town think he was not in control.

He looked over at his son, busy playing with his toys in his pen and blessedly quiet for the first time in days. He hadn't been sure what to think when the sheriff called him into the police station at 2 a.m. one rainy night. In the back of his mind he knew it had something to do with his devious ex-wife.

They'd married more for necessity than love, and the barely existent conversations they had proved it. Just when Gold was writing up the divorce papers, she disappeared into the night with only her most treasured belongings in tow and a wad of cash from his safe. The private investigator revealed that she had stowed away to Boston with a cruise boat captain, and Gold had left it at that.

Yet the second he stepped into the police station, he learned that Milah had left with much more.

Nestled in the arms of Deputy Nolan was a little boy with an unbelievable mass of curls. In the babe's back pocket was a letter from Milah, renouncing her claim for the boy and allowing Gold sole custody.

Gold had been in shock, barely able to recall the last time he and Milah copulated to the point of creating a life.

Yet, when the little boy turned to him and pointed one of his pudgy little hands up to him, a flood of instincts overtook him, and in a second Gold was a father.

He didn't regret his decision at all, but juggling a baby and a business in no way made his life easier.

The bell to his shot tingled, and Gold knew this life was about to get a lot harder.

"Lacey French," Gold sighed. "Unless you have your rent for this month I suggest you turn around and start locating some boxes,"

"You're incredibly cheerful first thing in the morning," Lacey snarked, waltzing into Gold's shop. "I'm here to discuss a deal."

"I'm not accepting pennies as part of your payment," Gold huffed, pulling out a pad and pretending to write something down in hopes she would leave.

Out of nowhere a pale hand with blue fingernail polish slammed down in front of him.

"Look Gold," Lacey snarled, "It's obvious you're overwhelmed. Last night proved just that. So unless you want the whole town to see you lose your edge, you'll let me help you."

"What help could the town trouble maker possibly give me?" he snarked, thought his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Lacey rolled her eyes. Geez, she kicked a police officer in the groin _once_ and suddenly she had a reputation.

"You need someone to look after the kid," Lacey pointed out bluntly. "I've been trying to figure out just why the richest man in town hasn't hired a babysitter or at least send him off to the daycare."

One of Gold's eyes twitched.

"So either you have beef with the bitch who runs the daycare, or there's not a sitter in a fifty mile radius who will look out for your brat,"

Gold glared at her for her insinuation, though he had to admire her for her observational skills. She'd make a fine investigator—or hell even a lawyer—if she applied herself.

"Or," Lacey grinned, "Is it a mix of both?"

Gold simply cocked his head, giving her all the answers she needed.

"If you're done—"

"Sorry, sorry," Lacey snickered. "Okay, look, I can help."

"Again, what help—"

"Watch it," Lacey warned. Taking a deep, patient breath, Lacey forced a smile. "I look after the kid for a few hours everyday, you knock a couple of bucks off my rent."

Gold scoffed. "Do you even have child care experience?"

Lacey nodded. "I used to look after my sister all the time. Not a scrap or burnt stove on my watch."

Gold frowned. "Aren't you and your sister the same age?"

Lacey waved him off. "Belle was a dreamer who'd walk right off a ledge if I hadn't been around."

"That hardly qualifies you, Miss French."

"But does give me experience," she said with a wink.

Gold bristled and glanced at his son. He wanted to give the child everything he deserved, including a father who could be with him all day. But if he wanted to give him a good life, he needed to attend to the business of the town, which he just couldn't do with a toddler plastered on his hip at all times.

Maybe Lacey French wasn't the best, but perhaps she was the start of something decent.

"If," he paused for effect. "I decide to humor this proposition, there are going to be some major ground rules."

Lacey smirked. She was winning.

"Lay them on me."

"One, you will arrive at my home each morning and remain until I return at five."

Lacey shrugged, simple enough.

"Secondly, you will feed him nothing but healthy nutritious snacks. If I see so much as a candy wrapper in the trash I'll fire you on the spot."

"Sheesh, fine." Lacey groaned.

"While we're on the subject, I don't believe I should have to warn you not to drink while my son is in your care."

Lacey was taken aback. "Duh."

"Very well then," Gold nodded, reaching across the desk to fish out a legal pad.

Lacey watched him write on it, trying to make out the word from her upside-down view.

In a flash, he turned the pad to her and held out the fountain pen.

"Sign and date by the x, please,"

Lacey pushed the pen back to him. "Hold it. We haven't discussed payment yet."

He scoffed. "Clever girl. Your rent is still $475 a month. I'll pay you $75 a week."

"Are you kidding me?" Lacey protested. "Don't nickels on the dime me Gold. How about $200 and we'll shake."

"You've lost your mind. $100."

"Bull. $150."

"$125."

Lacey paused, and for a second all they could hear was the sound of the myriad of clocks in the shock.

Finally the pool shark shrugged and grabbed the pen, signing her name and the date, and sealing her fate.

"You now have yourself a full-time nanny." Lacey smirked, shoving the pad back to Gold.

Gold turned to put the contract in his safe. "What I have is an overcompensated babysitter." he said over his shoulder.

Feeling triumphant, Lacey turned to leave, her mouth salivating with the idea of a victory drink.

"I will see you at 7:30 a.m. sharp, Miss French," Gold called after her, smothering a smirk when she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Seven. In the _morning_?!"

"That's not a problem is it?" he inquired with false concern.

Lacey wrinkled her nose and barged out.

Gold chuckled and bent over to pick up his son. He might live to regret this, but for the time being it was proving to be very entertaining.

Though as he kissed Baelfire's curls, he truly hoped he was doing the right thing.


	3. Chapter 3

"Faq faq faq!" Lacey cursed around her tooth brush as she combed her hair and attempted to jump into a pair of pants.

She'd overslept. A classic Lacey-move on the wrong day.

A victory shot at Granny's turned into a 2 a.m. fumble into her apartment. When she woke up at 8:15 a.m. the splintering headache she earned became the least of her problems.

She stumbled up his front step and had her hand poised to knock when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Gold and a squalling Baelfire.

"What part of 'get here early' did you not comprehend?" He seethed as he fumbled on the entry table until he pulled out a pacifier, coaxing it into the babe's mouth.

Lacey flinched and followed the grumbling man into the living room, taking note at his pristine house where the few toys and playpen looked woefully out of place.

"Shit happens man," Lacey muttered.

With Baelfire pacified, Gold was able to put the boy in his playpen so that he could thoroughly roast his tardy babysitter.

"Isn't he a bit to old for one of those?" Lacey questioned to wait out some of the heat.

"Not necessarily," Gold answered, his tone still hard. "Children develop differently." He ran a hand over Bae's curls. "He can't even speak yet."

Before Lacey's curiosity could be peaked, he turned back to her, his glare stabbing.

"But more importantly if this is what your behavior is going to be, Miss French, then you can forget our deal right now."

"Firstly, I already signed the contract so like hell you will," Lacey snarked. "Secondly…" the barfly willed herself to ease her temper. Lacey E. French did not kiss up, but she knew how to play cards in her favor.

"It won't happen again," she assured with a plastic angel smile.

"Consider this your only free pass from me then." Gold hurried past Lacey and prepared to leave Baelfire—his reason for living—into Lacey's inexperienced care.

"His schedule's on the coffee table and the emergency numbers are on the refrigerator." Gold spoke as he readied his key

"Um…yeah" Lacey shrugged as she leaned against the doorframe.

Gold stopped at the bottom step, a dramatic pause following his lapse.

Suddenly, Gold turned back to her and closed the distance with them with his cane.

"And finally, Miss French," Gold spoke cordially, as if he were reminding her to water a plant. "If anything at all happens to my son—and I mean anything—I will make you pay in ways you wouldn't even begin to imagine."

Lacey seethed. "Who the—"

"Not in front of the babe, Miss French," Gold cut her off with half a predatorial smirk. "Until later,"

Lacey gaped after him, clucking her tongue in her own quiet retaliation.

"Whatever dick," Lacey scoffed as she kicked the door closed. As she approached the living room Baelfire used the walls of the pen to assist him with standing, his pools of chocolate looking up at her as she flopped on the couch.

"What?" she teased as she reached for the remote, sparing a thought to how weird it actually was that Gold owned a television at all. She always assumed he entertained his self by counting money or painting the walls with his victims' blood.

She was about to settle on a rerun of Law and Order when suddenly a wet object smacked her right in the face.

"The fuck!" Lacey snarled as she jumped up and scrubbed her cheek. At the end of the very couch she had been sitting on was Baelfire's pacifier. She turned a dark look on the boy as he cooed and babbled.

"Brat," Lacey hissed as she tossed the pacifier back into the pen, folding her arms in defense. "What the hell do you want?"

Baelfire lifted his arms up.

"No," Lacey deadpanned. "I'm not holding you, geez."

Baelfire's lip went out and Lacey watched in horror as it began to tremble. Then his pudgy body shuddered before he let out a great cry.

"Damn it," Lacey panicked, fidgeting over the pen. With a disgusted sound she bent down and lifted Bae, his cry slowing down.

She held him at arm's length, legit unsure of how to hold him. His wailing was beginning to build up again from the pressure under his arms.

"Alright," Lacey yelled, hesitating before pressing him into her chest. She fumbled a bit to correct her grip, causing him to whine. Out of desperation she grasped his diaper area and head and smothered him into her chest.

"Um…" she breathed, wrinkling her nose when the boy pawed at her t-shirt dangerously close to her breast.

"Easy kid," Lacey warned, clutching him close as she eased herself onto the couch. The stability of having a surface under them helped Lacey relaxed and decide on a course of action.

"Um…you…" Lacey looked around and grabbed the remote, flipping through channels until she found some loud colorful kiddie show. She glanced warily at Baelfire and breathed in relief when he turned his full attention to the television.

"Thank Christ," Lacey said, easing herself off the couch. She looked around and blessedly found the schedule Gold mentioned.

_8 – 8:30 a.m. – Breakfast_

"Wasn't there for that that." Lacey snorted.

_8: 30 – 9 a.m. – Wash and Dress _

_9:00 – 9:30 a.m – Phonics cards_

"What the hell are phonics cards?" she muttered, scanning down the list.

_9:30 – 10 a.m. – Educational Television_

The young barfly flipped to a different channel, clucking in amusement when the cartoon cat and mouse began beating each other with pipes.

"Educational enough for ya," she snorted to the kid, glancing over to see that his eyes were still locked to the screen.

"On the job twenty minutes and I'm already a pro," she bragged to herself, throwing her feet back on the coffee table and continuing to run through Bae's schedule.

_10 – 11 p.m. Playtime_

"You'll be doing that solo," Belle muttered.

_11:30 to 12 p.m. – Lunch _

Lacey's stomach rumbled at the concept of food. She hadn't eaten since her barely passable lunch yesterday. It was a miracle last night's alcohol was still resting as well as it was.

It was barely past nine, but what was wrong with a little post-breakfast snacking?

"Stay put." She ordered as she strolled to the kitchen.

She frowned at Gold's fridge selections. Scraps of sandwich stuff. Cartoon encrypted yogurts targeted specifically for kids, which Lacey proceeded to grab.

The cabinets did little to impress her as well. Gold had stocked up on child-friendly snacks but not much else. When was the last time the old bag had a decent meal?

Lacey shrugged and grabbed a pack of animal crackers. It wasn't in her pay grade to care whether Gold ate or not.

"Here kiddo," she said to Bae as she dropped the snack at his feet. "Eat up,"

Bae cooed as he tried to tear open the package, his frustration building as his chubby fingers struggled to grip the slick packaging.

Lacey clucked her tongue and reached over to get a rip started, watching with a hint of a smirk when the boy began shoving sugary lions and bears into his mouth.

_12 – 12:30 p.m. – Mozart Music CD's_

"Mozart, seriously?"

With a scoff she tossed the schedule aside and glanced at Baelfire's unbelievably tiny form. Gold had every second of his day planned with none to spare. He probably didn't notice it now being so young, but what would happen when he was a teenager? Gold was going to smother this kid to death!

Lacey thought about Belle. Always together, but under so much pressure to be perfect—not for her reputation per say, but for a future she had been so uncertain she would have. How many times had she wanted to quit? How many times had she been pushed too hard?

Lacey crumbled up the schedule and tossed it aside.

"Alright kiddo, if I'm stuck here with you for the next six hours, we're going to do shit my way. Come on!"

Baelfire looked at her and recognized her gesture. He allowed the rest of his animal crackers to spread over the couch before he carefully climbed down and toddled after his self-made babysitter.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gold rushed to get to the front door, his ears straining for the sound of his son's babble.

His day at the shop had been too quiet, too productive without his little boy underfoot. It was a terrifying change from what he had trained his brain to adapt to, and if he didn't see his son in the next ten seconds he would collapse.

He heard the loud banging sounds before he even opened the door, but without the sound of his son screaming he sustained from jumping into full-panic mode.

"Bae?" he called out, flinching when he heard another series of bangs. He limped through his once immaculate living room where the TV was blaring and crackers were crushed into his couch.

On top of that there were crayons and crudely drawn pictures on his coffee table, blocks strewn across the floor, and was that a melted dinosaur on his priceless aqua lamp?

"Lacey," Gold growled, flinching when the sounds continued. As irritation swallowed his shock, he pushed into the kitchen to find a very unconventional site.

Baelfire was giggling on the floor as he beat an expensive ladle against an even more expensive cast-iron skillet.

On the counter was Lacey slamming two pot lids together as her phone vibrated with demonic music screaming from the speaker.

Gold felt his brain begin to swell with a migraine from the noise and the mess. As he reached over to cut off Lacey's music, he resisted the urge to grab her throat right along with it.

"Hey!" Lacey protested, dropping the pot lids.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Lacey motioned to Bae who continued to play unperturbed. "Music lesson."

Gold continued to glare at her as he went around the counter to gently pry the dishes from his hands.

"His 'music' lesson was supposed to be a Mozart CD while you laid him down for his nap, which," Gold motioned around the kitchen, "It would seem you neglected to do."

Lacey shrugged. "I was trying to show him a good time."

"He doesn't need a good time, Miss. French," Gold scolded, keeping his voice low as to not startle his son. "He needs to be kept on the schedule I set up for him."

"Schedule's are stupid," Lacey scoffed. "He had fun," Lacey glanced down at her nails. "I had fun…"

"Schedules will keep him on the right path for a good future," Gold lectured as he secured Bae on his hip. "Something you could have used." He added under his breath.

Lacey's eye twitched.

"You're going to push him away, ya know," Lacey shrugged, unsure why she was trying to defend a kid would be better off than her no matter what.

"I'm going to make sure he can survive in this world," Gold growled. "And I would greatly appreciate it if you would not hinder that process,"

"Oh God so sorry if letting the kid play by his own devices will keep him from getting into…" Lacey shrugged. "I don't know, Harvard?"

"Of course **you** would think Harvard," Gold scoffed.

"Look here you pompous, rich, ass hat," Lacey growled. "I might not have ten degrees and a house with eight bedrooms, but that does not make me any dumber or less significant than you!"

Bae began to get uneasy from the loud sounds. Gold made a quick trip to the living room to put Bae back in his pen before he charged at Lacey.

"I don't think you're dumber or insignificant," Gold growled. "I think you're careless, sloppy. If you applied yourself—"

"Oh my god why the hell are you giving me a dad talk," Lacey groaned, stalking back to the living room.

"Don't be ridiculous," Gold fought. "I'm offering you advice that you should consider taking if you want to one day leave this place."

"I'm fine where I am thank you very much!" Lacey shouted at him, ignoring the knot that formed in her stomach when Bae whimpered. She grabbed her jacket and threw it on as she made a bee-line for the door.

"How about you focus on not screwing up the kid's life?" she yelled back as she slammed the door.

Gold flinched, counting down until his son started wailing.

"I'm sorry m'boy." Gold sighed as he nestled him close, soothing him through his little hiccups as he calmed.

Lacey French was mischief on legs, he knew that long before any of this had occurred. He admired her from afar for a long time, her brave smiles and devil-may-care stance. Sure, she annoyed him with her carelessness and never-ending sense of youth, but he always thought there was greatness just under her skin.

As he went to prepare his son a bath, he hoped she could forgive him long enough to come back tomorrow morning.

He needed her help, even if he knew deep down she needed his more.


	4. Chapter 4

Lacey was positively pissed when she woke up _on time_ the next morning. She had hoped she would have slept in late and Gold would give up on her.

Yet Lacey found herself trudging to Gold's house, her hair unwashed, her clothes unfitting. She shot dirty looks at passersby and hoped Gold would tell her to scram when she rung the doorbell.

He didn't.

"Do come in," he insisted as he held the door open.

Lacey groaned as she obeyed, noticing with a snort that the expansive mess she and Bae had caused yesterday had been cleared away.

She followed Gold into the kitchen where Baelfire was munching on dry cereal. His eyes widened when he saw her.

"Bwasy!" he sang, holding his pudgy arms out to her.

Both Lacey and Gold stopped in their tracks.

"I…I thought you said he couldn't speak yet."

"He can't…" Gold breathed, the corner of his mouth twitching in an almost proud smile.

"Well then…congrats?" Lacey shrugged, trying to wrap her head around the idea that a kid she hadn't known for a full twenty-four hours would waste his first word on her.

Gold nodded with a hum and began cleaning his son off.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," he said suddenly.

Lacey blinked. No one ever apologized to her.

"As you should," she stated, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what he was apologizing for.

"I shouldn't have pried the way I did," Gold said. "Your business and decisions are your own, and I have no right to weigh in on them."

"Ah," Lacey said, nodding, but felt empty. Though what he said had stung, it had felt nice to have someone see her potential and remind her of it.

Now he wouldn't bring it up again. He didn't care.

"But I stand by what I said," he added. "You can do something amazing with your life."

Lacey shrugged, desperate to shrug off the mixed feelings Gold was making her feel.

"And I also thought of what you said," Gold added, bringing Lacey back to present.

"Oh?" she pressed.

"I have been rather rigorous with Bae's schedule," he said as he unlatched Bae from his chair. "If you're willing, I'd like you to take him to the park for a few hours after lunch, long enough for him to tire himself for his nap."

Lacey choked a bit. He'd actually listened to her.

"Um, yeah of cou—" she gasped when Baelfire suddenly ran into her leg, just as he had at the bar. She met his little pools of chocolate as he met her blue ones.

"Bwasy!" His little hands stretched up her leg, like a kitten still learning the ways of the world.

Lacey twitched at the knowledge of what he wanted.

Gold sensed her hesitation and came up behind Bae to lift him up.

"Hold out your arms," he instructed. "Now place one under his bottom…yes that's it. Now the other around his shoulders."

Lacey obeyed, her heart pounding as this tiny creature nestled himself in her arms, wrapping those pudgy, softer-than-silk arms around her neck.

She could smell cereal on his breath and count every eyelash he had.

"Bwasy," he said again.

"Yeah." Lacey swallowed. What the hell was she feeling?

Gold chuckled knowingly and placed his hand on Lacey's to guide it to the center of Bae's back.

He stopped when Lacey's eyes shot up to his.

And could only stare.

Lacey French was trouble in human form. She stayed out too late and drank too much and had not held down a functional job until now. Yet with his little boy in her arms, there was this strange and beautiful vulnerability to her. And though there was panic in her eyes, her posture was poised, professional almost.

He swallowed.

And Lacey looked away, swerving to sit Bae on top of the counter.

"So uh…you'll be back by five?"

Gold blinked. Right.

"Yes, I'll call you if anything changes," he said, straightening his lapels and falling back into his overly professional persona. "Good day."

"Same to you."

"Make sure he at least does his phonics cards."

"Uh huh," Lacey nodded as she willed the aggravating blush on her cheeks to fade. She listened as the tell-all sound of the door closure signaled his departure.

With a groan she collapsed against the counter. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," She recalled that she was in the presence of a post-toddler and glanced at him, the smirking boy staring at her like she was a god.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lacey decided to take their lunch with them to the park. Bae had been strangely clingy to her most of the morning to the point where even actual educational television wouldn't distract him.

She wasn't angry, or even frustrated with is new-found likeness for her. It was just so odd to have a tiny person actively seek her out. Lacey had sworn since early tweenhood that she would never have children or anything to do with them.

She scoffed at the irony as she loaded Bae and a bag of supplies onto a stroller she had found in a closet.

"Belle would shit her pants if she could see me now," she said out loud, then chastised herself for conversing with a three-year-old.

As they reached the park entrance Bae began to get antsy, excited for familiar surroundings.

Lacey released him and laughed as he made a stumbling tumble to the sand box.

"Dork!" she called after him. Lugging the stroller to the nearest bench. "And don't get kidnapped!"

"Lacey?"

The woman in question looked up and struggled to recall the tired blonde in front of her who was pushing a little girl only a year or so older than Bae.

"Um…hi?" Lacey greeted uneasily, glancing on and off at Bae just in case this was part of a kidnapping plan.

The woman laughed wetly and took the space on the bench. "You haven't changed a bit. You still look exactly as you did in high school."

That one word filled Lacey's mind with memories of a time so long ago. Chaotic lunches with her friends. Unwarranted fights with her frustrated teachers. Sideways smiles at her sister as they parted ways down the hall.

And then Ashley Boyd. The trailer park queen who thought she was the next Paris Hilton.

Lacey had been snarky, but Ashley had been downright cruel. Belle had coached her sister how to stand her ground against the blonde tyrant, but it did little to settle her into humbleness.

That is until the day her father dropped a stepmother and two stepsisters on her. She was no longer daddy's little girl and her new sisters made her life at school an absolute nightmare.

She only seemed to spiral further when she fell pregnant and left just before graduation season. The queen was finally dethroned and the rest of Storybrooke High's year was much quieter for it.

However, Lacey would give her credit where it was due. Becoming a young mother strengthened her. She took some night classes while she was pregnant and soon began running the local daycare.

She'd made something of her life, which filled Lacey with a grainy bitterness.

"It's good to see you," Lacey said half-truthfully.

"You too," Ashley returned with a warped smile. She released her daughter from the confinement of her stroller and sat back as she ran to join Baelfire in the sandbox.

"Well look at him," Ashley mused. "He's absolutely adorable."

"He's not mine," Lacey pointed out quickly.

"Oh, I know who's he is," Ashely concluded.

Lacey glanced at Bae and then back at Boyd, her stomach turning when she saw the darkness in her eyes. She had the sudden urge to snatch up Bae and run, but Lacey French ran from no one, especially not ex-bullies.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Lacey growled, locking eyes with Ashley when she shot back around.

She shrugged so casually Lacey wanted to wrap her hands around her throat.

"Mr. Gold wanted to enroll him in my daycare," Ashely said, her voice chirpy like she was talking about a recent vacation. "I told him not a chance in hell."

Lacey wrinkled her nose and looked at Bae as he filled a discarded bucket with sand. Though her experience with children was slim to none, she could confidently say Bae was the most well-behaved toddler in existence.

"Why?" Lacey pressed. "It's not like he couldn't have paid the fees or anything."

"I have the trust of every yoga and soccer mom in Storybrooke," Ashley relayed. "If I let Gold or his sprawn anywhere near their children, I'd lose that trust without a second thought."

Lacey flinched, gripping the underside of the bench for dear life. "Bae's three. Whatever beef you have with Gold shouldn't interfere with you giving him the same respect you give any other brat in this town."

"I don't expect you to understand because you're not a parent," Ashely said. "But those who associate with that man sink, and they don't even have time to hold their breaths."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Why the hell are you bothering me?"

"Consider this a warning from someone who almost ended up just like you," Ashley said, her smirk triumpth. "Gold is toxic, and no matter what you do his kid is going to end up just like him,"

"You're wrong," Lacey fought, losing her temper fast. "Gold might be a dick, but he cares about his kid,"

"Don't let the paycheck blind you," Ashely scoffed. "He's a snake, and he will ruin your life if you keep your distance,"

Lacey jumped up, twirling her fingers in her belt loops. "Well, Ashely," Lacey breathed, biting her inner cheek. "I'm more than capable of ruining my own life, so being around Gold will hardly give me damage points." She turned towards the sandbox and whistled, earning Bae's attention.

"Come on kiddo," she called out, her breath catching when Bae emerged from the sand and came toddling after her, his tiny legs barely carrying him.

She picked him up, and for once the motion of swinging him onto her hip was second nature.

"The next time you want to strike up a conversation," Lacey growled at Ashley. "Stick to the weather."

She grumbled fantasies of taking Ashley's face through a meat grinder as she hazardously pushed Bae in his stroller. When she glanced down she found the boy to be otherwise unfazed.

Why did she feel so strange around this little boy? Why did she suddenly feel this need to hold him, and protect him from bitches like Ashley Boyd?

Lacey scoffed in denial as she lugged Bae's stroller up the stairs, jumbling her curses so that he wouldn't catch on.

This was just part of the job. She was protective of her ward because she was getting paid to, nothing more.

She nodded at this thought comfortably as she undid Bae from the stroller. But the second he was free, he launched himself into her arms.

"Bwasy!" he cheered, nuzzling his face into her bosom.

"Geez kid," Lacey groaned pushing him away just enough to give them some space. "I'm having a crisis here!"

Bae laughed gleefully, his tiny baby teeth gleaming.

"Oh come on." She groaned. How was he so damn cute?

The boy babbled has he reached out a hand to paw at her cheek, his soft fingers pressing into her smooth cheekbone.

Lacey followed his hand as it wondered over her face. What was he trying to do? Was this something all kids did? Was he feeling her out to suffocate her later?

His fingers made a dangerous path over her mouth and Lacey took hold of his hand before they could venture past her lips.

She glared at him, hoping to deter his strange toddler affection. No one liked her except drunk slobs. Kids were supposed to avoid her at all cost.

Yet this one was staring at her like she had just given him the moon, and she hadn't even given him lunch yet!

"Kid…" Lacey sighed, looking at the tiny hand clutched in her own.

"Bwasy." Bae responded.

Lacey's throat tightened. He was too cute, too good for Storybrooke and all his its self-righteous heathens.

She laughed tightly. "Damn it kid," she chocked as she brought the tiny fingers to her lips.

"Miss French?"

With a horrified gasp she dropped Bae's hand, turning to find Gold at the kitchen entryway, staring at her like a ghost just walked through his door.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hi…" Lacey croaked as her face flamed. "You're back early."

"I closed the shop early to bring you lunch," Gold said as he stepped forward, a strange half-smile on his face. "What are you…"

"Nothing!" Lacey defended, putting a good foot between her and the fluffy toddler who had somehow broken down all her defenses. She rushed past him to the hall bath, splashing her face with the icy water in hopes of drawling out her senses.

"Get a grip Lace!" she chided, slapping the sides of her head. "You can't get attached to someone else's kid—or to them for that matter—geez!" she patted her cheeks with a soft towel and willed the thoughts away.

This is just a job. This is just a job. This is just a job.

She continued to mutter under her breath as she eased out of the bathroom. Gold already had Bae in his highchair with a diced-up eggroll.

"Are you well?" Gold inquired.

"Yeah, just…the heat," Lacey shrugged off, taking a place on the other side of the counter. "Yum, Chinese,"

They passed the cartons around and prepared their plates. To her absolute shock, Gold turned around and brought out a bottle of red wine.

"It's barely five," Lacey pointed out with a wide grin.

"Well, you seemed like you needed to relax," he said as he passed her a barely filled glass. "Mind yourself though. I'm still ambient about the no alcohol rule."

"Noted," Lacey said as she gulped down her wine.

They ate quietly for a while, occasionally refilling their glasses (which Gold monitored and controlled).

Now in better spirits, Lacey spared a glance at Bae, a smile tugging at her cheeks.

"He looks just like you," Lacey commented. "You sure you didn't just spit him out?"

Gold scoffed. "I wish that had been the case."

"Oh, juicy backstory," Lacey winked.

"No," Gold denied.

"Come on!" Lacey whined.

"It's really not any of your business Miss French," Gold warned, though the wine had dulled his snark.

"Look," Lacey countered. "I suck at lying. So one day if I'm playing dinosaurs or some crap with Bae and he suddenly asks me about his mom, what do you expect me to tell him?"

She and Gold stared at each other for a moment, and Lacey twitched at the way Gold was gawking.

"You'd really want to be around her that long?" Gold questioned.

Lacey felt a cold shudder run up her spine. Had she really just envisioned that?

"I'm being hypothetical," she added quickly to cover herself.

Gold's lip twitch, and she could see the 'yeah right' look on his face.

"Very well Miss French," Gold sighed in false defeat. "But this stays between us,"

"Agreed," Lacey nodded as he topped off her wine.

He relayed the story of how his marriage was embarrassingly short-lived, and how he and his wife had been unable to tolerate each other during its short course. He added on about how she left with a lover and Gold thought that would be it.

Lacey felt an uneasy drop in her gut as Gold's face changed at the memory. This was hurtful for him, to have such a scab from his past peeled off so abruptly.

But she didn't stop him, nor did he stop himself.

"Then I got a call from the sheriff's station one night," Gold continued. "It turns out Milah left with a lot more than just a portion of my bank account, and she was returning what she didn't want,"

"Bae," Lacey breathed, glancing at the stained boy.

"Indeed," Gold nodded as he sipped on his wine.

Lacey tried to wrap her head around the idea of a mother just dropping off her kid. Her own mom had been mother of the year even when she was sick. How could someone raise there kid for a few years and then just toss them away?

"Any follow-ups?" Lacey inquired.

"I didn't think there was a need for one," Gold confided. "She gave me my son. I'm counting myself lucky."

Lacey nodded. She could have left him anywhere, but she made sure that he went to someone who would love him unwarrantedly.

"So on the day you and Bae are playing with dinosaurs and he asks about his mum, you'll know what to say," Gold teased passively.

Lacey lifted her glass in a salute, "You got it." Her joking nature kept the mood light, but Lacey felt a great sense of dread over Gold's story. Was that why Bae was clinging to her so? Did he just miss his mama and somehow connected her with the other woman?

Gold moved around the counter to help Baelfire down from his chair, the boy fussing when Gold took a wet rag to clean off his face and hands.

"So what of you?" Gold inquired when Bae bounded off to the living room.

"Sorry, no vindictive ex-wives for me," Lacey winked.

"I assumed," Gold countered. "I shared a shred of my past, I'd like to hear one of yours."

Lacey tapped her nails on the counter, uneasiness setting in. "I don't really have interesting stories,"

"Of course you do," Gold encouraged. "You're an intelligent woman, why did you stay in Storybrooke?"

Lacey scoffed. "Where else would I go?"

"Anywhere you want," Gold countered. "You must have wanted to go elsewhere once,"

Lacey thought about Belle with her brave smiles and wide-eyed sense of wonder.

"Well," Lacey gulped. "There was a time when…" she sighed, shaking her head at her more youthful self. "I wanted to be a probation officer,"

She waited for the scoff. Lacey French on the _right _side of the law? Pure fiction!

But Gold only nodded, his eyes light with wonder. "Why didn't you?"

Lacey shrugged, recalling the day her barely existent plan burnt to ash.

Literally.

"My mum died when Belle and I were thirteen," Lacey relayed, the memory of the kindly sick woman barely registering a sprig of sadness within her.

"She left us a little bit of money. Not much but just enough that we could go to the least expensive colleges in Maine. But dad grieved hard and swindled the majority of it,"

"That explains why he never pays his rent in full," Gold muttered.

"By the time we were sending out applications, there was only enough for one of us to go," Lacey gripped the glass. "Belle got accepted to her fist choice, and we just had enough of mum's money left to spread over the next four years."

"But what of you?" Gold pressed.

Lacey closed her eyes. She could have easily lied, said she hadn't been ready to grow up, that she thought college was for people who wanted to rot in cubical and stressed over things like board meetings and signing the head secretary's birthday card.

"Truth is," Lacey began. "I…got accepted to a tech school an hour outside of Storybrooke. It was a third of the price for Belle's school, and would have taken less time to get my degree."

Gold smiled. Lacey had a dream once, and a way to accomplish it.

"But," Lacey shrugged, her expression dull. "Belle…wanted it so bad," she licked her lips. "She was always destined to leave this place, to be better than…"

Gold stilled when he saw her lip tremble, his fingers twitching to comfort her.

With a broken sigh she reached out and grabbed the bottle and took a short swig, just enough to burn her throat. Gold looked uneasy but did not stop her.

"Anyway," she gasped, slamming the bottle on the counter. "I tore up my acceptance letter and Belle was none the wiser. I got shit from half the town about how I was a waste if I couldn't get into a tech school and took up pool as a hobby."

"Lacey I'm so sorry," Gold said sorrowfully.

Lacey tapped on her glass, the burns her father, teachers, and everyone else who had two cents had given her still raw. Only Belle had spared her, giving her sister her blessing to live her life to her own accord. Ignorant of the sacrifice that her twin had made.

Although Lacey felt that her twin knew deep down. She had to, didn't she?

"It is what it is," Lacey laughed. "And at least I got a job with the richest man in town."

"I'll cheer to that," Gold smiled, clinking his glass with hers as they finished off the bottle.

"You know, you're a classy guy Mr. Gold," Lacey said. "Not really who I thought you were."

"Oh really," Gold husked.

"Yep," Lacey smirked. "You're a decent bloke, good listener, great taste in wine," she glanced back at Bae who was stacking blocks on top of a firetruck. "And a decent pop to boot,"

"You're not who I thought you were either," Gold agreed. "You're witty, and surprisingly good with children,"

"Whoa!" Lacey protested, poking Gold in the chest. "Let's not go that far. I'm good with** your **kid. Throw anyone else's in there and I crash and burn."

"You might be surprised," Gold pointed out, his hand wrapping around the one digging into his chest. "You're so much more capable than you know,"

Lacey stared at the hand just kissing her own, so unaccustomed to anything but harsh grabs from irritated drunks that the sweet touch seemed almost like a joke.

But Gold's expression was anything but lighthearted. In fact when Lacey met his eyes again she found him looking at her like she had just took a bullet for him.

"W…what?" Lacey gulped, thankful her high tolerance for alcohol had prevented her from becoming too lightheaded.

"I…" he began to answer, but the words seemed to leave him. He had yet to let go of her hand.

Lacey didn't react when he stepped closer. Usually she'd be on edge if anyone got within a foot of her, but with Gold it felt too familiar, comfortable even. Like she was with another version of herself.

Thus, when Gold began inching closer, his lips just hovering over hers, she didn't feel the need to conk him upside the jaw and bail. It was so odd, these feelings that had surfaced since she'd agreed to all this. The confusion and bordering disgust she had felt was melting into something she couldn't describe, or really want to.

Lacey French went with the flow, after all.

Just as acceptance for what was to come washed over hers, a loud crash reminded her that this wasn't just about her and Gold; there was a third party to consider.

The couple shot around to find that Baelfire had knocked his tower of blocks down, the action having startled him to tears.

"Oh Bae," Gold soothed as he limped to pick up the little boy. "It's okay son, it's okay."

Lacey took the lapse to compose herself and try to solve this great mystery before her. She had just tried to kiss Mr. Gold. Her landlord and now technically boss. The father of the charge that she had somehow developed a strange protective instinct for.

She turned to stare at the loving duo as Gold eased Bae out of his hiccups. The little boy laid his head on his father's shoulder, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. Lacey gasped lightly: she had forgotten to put him down for a nap today.

In that moment all the building happiness and control Lacey had felt the last few days collapsed just as easily as Bae's block tower.

What was she doing? This wasn't the life for her! She couldn't be a romantic partner and a mother figure! She was Lacey E. French. The town troublemaker. She drank too much, was careless, and was too afraid to follow her own dream.

Her eyes stung with kept tears as she felt aimlessly for her jacket. She didn't belong here. She couldn't belong here.

"Lacey?" Gold inquired when he saw how pale she had become.

"I'm sorry," Lacey sobbed. "This was a mistake."

"Lacey wait!" Gold called after her as she sped out the door, jostling Bae from the effort.

The door slammed before he could catch up to her, leaving him woefully lost. Thankfully Bae had drifted off to sleep in the commotion, completely unaware with just how dejected his Papa felt.


	6. Chapter 6

Lacey began ripping off her clothes as soon as she entered her apartment, releasing a new curse as each item hit the floor.

"Mother everlasting son of a bitch!" she howled as she turned the shower to the hottest level, stepping in to welcome the burn.

She scrubbed her skin hard, taking deep breaths to ease away her wracking sobs.

What was she going to do? She was falling hard for the Golds and it was the most unnatural feeling in the world. Lacey wasn't supposed to fall prey to domesticity. She wasn't supposed to rearrange her life for other people!

Yet the very idea of doing just that was possessing her. How bad would it be really? To be a friend and companion to a trifling landlord and his heart-stealing little boy?

She was being ridiculous, she thought. Gold says a few nice words and his kid learns her name and she melts? What the hell!

"This is so damn stupid!" Lacey groaned as she collapsed into her bed in nothing but a towel.

There had to be a way for her to wrap her head around all of this, to come up with a plan. She could just quit, but she actually did need the money, and the idea of not seeing that curly-haired heartthrob every day was too painful to think of at the moment.

And Lacey E. French was no quitter, at least not anymore…

The shadow of the past sprang forth an idea for the confused barfly. It was a long-shot, and would probably end in a thorough smackdown, but it was the only shot she had.

With a truckload of hesitation, she called the one person who could help her sort through her most recent pile of wreckage.

"Hello?"

Lacey gulped at the familiar accent. "Belle?"

There was a brief pause and Lacey expected a tone dial to follow, but instead she heard a slight strangled noise.

"Oh my gosh Lacey!" Belle cried. "I…how are you?"

Lacey released a wet laugh, grateful for her twin's invitation.

"Um, that's complicated Belle. How about we start with you?"

"Okay," Belle replied, sounding positively giddy.

Lacey listened somberly as Belle relayed her job as a grad assistant, her rough edged but soft-hearted fiancé, and of course wedding plans.

"I'm sending out wedding invinations later this week. Nick wanted me to have this grand wedding, but I know he hates big to-dos. I said I would be just fine going to the courthouse and then our favorite bar afterwards, but he said his colleagues would string him up over the physics department if he denied them this."

Lacey chuckled. "I like this guy,"

"You'll love him. He reminds me of you in a way."

Lacey frowned. She certainly hoped the man holding her sister's heart wasn't a thing like her.

"Now," Belle continued. "Let's here about you. How's old Storybrooke?"

Lacey scoffed. "Same as ever, though Granny added spaghetti to her menu for some reason."

"Wow, it's really come up," Belle joked. "How about you? Will you be bringing a date to my wedding?"

Lacey blushed at the very idea of being serious enough with Gold that he would come to such an affair with her. Although she'd imagined him and Bae both would look just charming in a tux—

"Son of a bitch!"

"Lace?" Belle gasped.

Lacey groaned. "Belle, I'm in real shit here."

She quickly relayed to her sister the weeks happenings, her deal with Gold, her time with Bae, and her strange uncertain feelings she didn't know what to do with.

"Whoa." Belle sighed on the line. "That's…different."

"It's fucking stupid is what it is!" Lacey returned. "I don't get it! I have one conversation with the guy and share some animal crackers with his kid and suddenly I'm a pig-tailed lamebrain!"

"Did you really put your hair in pigtails?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lacey barked. "Tell me what to do! What the fuck's wrong with me?"

"Sounds like to me Lacey that you're in love," Belle teased. "Or more like falling in it."

Lacey covered her mouth to keep from screaming, the words sounding more terrifying now that they were out in the open.

"I can't do that Belle," Lacey sobbed. "I can't be…that!"

"What, happy?"

"In love, or whatever this shit is!" Lacey yelled. "I'm not right for them! I'll drag them down with me! I'll hurt Gold and Bae someway…I don't want to do that!"

"Lacey calm down," Belle soothed. "Please."

Lacey took a moment to breath, the light tint of static over the phone soothing her back into place.

"It's okay to be afraid," Belle coached. "It's okay to not be ready for this. But it's not like you have to marry him."

"Oh god!"

"Hush, let me finish. You don't have to jump into something you're not ready for. If Gold's really as decent as you say he is, he'll understand! Just talk to him. Let him know how you feel and that you want to take this slow."

"But Belle…" Lacey cried, her heart pounding. "He deserves so much better than me. I pay my rent in change and my first job since high school has been a half-ass babysitter!"

"Well…maybe we can open you up a checking account, and babysitting is a damn good gig," Belle encouraged. "And as for you not being good enough for them…"

Lacey held her breath at the long pause Belle took, wondering if she was about to hang up on her and leave her to stew in her own disaster.

"I know what you did for me," Belle said at last. "I know you didn't go to college so that I could."

Lacey's blood went cold. "The fuck how?" she hissed. She thought she had covered her tracks!

"You're careless Lace," Belle pointed out non-accusingly. "You set your acceptance letter on fire, but you didn't stick around to see if it burned. I found a piece of it left, and I put two and two together."

Lacey groaned. Classic Lacey move.

"And while we're on the subject," Belle voice cracked. "I'm so sorry."

Lacey blinked. "For what? You did great, and you're doing exactly what you wanted to."

"But you didn't," Belle stressed. "I should have pushed you to go to school, to do what you wanted. We could have split the money and taken out loans to make up the difference. But I was so selfish, and I thought you just weren't ready but when you never mentioned Mum's trust, I figured it out."

"You were never selfish Belle," Lacey promised. "You're kind of right, I wasn't ready, not really. And you were always destined to do something with your life, to leave this place. You didn't need to wait around for me to do the same."

"I would have gladly waited," Belle said. "But you can't keep stalling. You deserve to be happy Belle."

Lacey closed her eyes, feeling a comforting numbness seep into her bones. For so long she had been holding herself back, and now she needed to take a leap.

"I'm scared," Lacey laughed.

"That's okay," Belle consoled. "No matter what happens it will happen because you were in control. And if by some one in a million chance it doesn't work out, you know where to find me."

Lacey nodded, wishing her sister were in front of her so that she could hold her.

"Thanks Belle," Lacey said, the words coming deep from her heart.

"You got it sis," Belle returned. "Now just what are we going to do?"

Lacey licked her lip, thinking over her options. She'd never been good a planning, and it wasn't until now that hesitation appeared in her dictionary.

Maybe things would work out if she winged it after all?

"I've gotta make a blue print," Lacey said as she jumped up to find clothes.

"What?"

"Call you tomorrow bye!"

"Lacey wa—"

Lacey hung up on her beloved sister and prepared to meet her fate.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He shouldn't have tried to kiss her? What the hell had he been thinking.

Gold had bathed and clothed Bae and taken him upstairs for a story before bed. The boy had longed fallen asleep in his lap, but Gold had yet to leave the rocking chair.

He'd been fearing the worst when he first hired Lacey. He kept closing the shop early just to check in on her and catch her in the act, but he had been woefully shocked to find that—while she had created chaos—it was less damaging than he had expected.

She actually bonded with him and did so in her own unique way. It made him proud of her in that moment, proud in his own decision to entrust his son to her.

But his admiration of Lacey French had begun long before they made their deal. Long before he'd even taken in Bae at that.

She hated him as a landlord like any other of his tenants, but she didn't gripe or moan. She pushed through, even if he had a jar of pennies by the time he got her rent. She'd wink at him when they passed each other in the streets but never expanded on the low-key flirting. She held her self with the upmost confidence and could look men twice her size in the eye without hesitation.

Yet all this time she had been carrying a deep self-loathing. Why hadn't he seen that she was so sad?

Because he was a cold-hearted bastard. It was simple but true answer. He hadn't really cared for anyone really, and Milah's abrupt departure had him wondering why he should try?

But Lacey had changed that somehow, pulled the withered remains out into the light to rejuvenate.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he felt for her, but if his want to kiss her early today was any indication, it was bordering on passion that her rushing out meant she did not want to receive.

Gold kissed Bae's curls and carefully laid him in his bed. What kind of young woman wanted an old man with a kid? She was too young, too free to be tied down to such a commitment.

He decided as he took off his tie that he'd talk to her about it tomorrow. She'd probably feel uncomfortable and quit, but he'd swallow his hurt and pay her well before she left. He'd even offer to cash in a favor with a college from the nearest university to get her in so she could follow her dream.

He'd hate to see her go and lose the small spark of friendship they'd manage to create, but she deserved to take back the happiness she put on hold.

Maybe one day when she was done with her degree she'd teach him to play pool, or she'd come by his shop and just talk.

Or maybe he'd get use to being alone forever.

Just as he was undoing his belt, the doorbell wailed throughout the house. Gold held his breath, counting down and sighing deeply when his son did not begin hollering.

He grabbed his cane and swore to ram it down the throat of whoever was at the door. He had it poised to kill when he opened the door and found Lacey standing on his front step.

"Lacey," he breathed, his heart picking up a beat. "It's late what are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," she stated simply, pushing past him.

Gold swallowed and closed the door behind him. "What's going on Lacey—"

"I like you," she blurted out, only a second of hesitation following her proclamation. "And hell, I like your kid.


End file.
